


Opposites Attract

by Andromeda_Astrea



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter/Funhaus RPF, X-Ray & Vav (Cartoon)
Genre: Concussions, Crushes, F/M, Fainting, Fever, Lightning - Freeform, Lightning strikes, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Seizures, Sickness, Some cute fluff too., Storms, injuries
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-08-30
Updated: 2017-03-05
Packaged: 2018-08-12 00:57:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 11,797
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7914166
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Andromeda_Astrea/pseuds/Andromeda_Astrea
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She was a genius, working for a highly advanced lab, surrounded by her robotic friend, a hobo who has inside for intel for everyone and everything, two idiotic superheroes, and a small fanboy. Her labcoat fanned out around her after her body gives out underneath her.</p>
<p>He was a warrior who defended his forest, on a hunt to retrieve someone dear to him. Armed with a sword, clad in furs and war paint, he finds her at her weakest. </p>
<p>He takes her in, and as he watches over her, something begins stirring in his chest.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So, I decided there was a significant lack of Hilda x Mogar fanart and fanfic in the fandom. I've seen a few people doing some rad fanart of them, but no fanfic yet. And I ship this ship so hard, so I must do it. 
> 
> Also expect some Dragonface and Dad King Mad King stories coming later too

' _ You're fine.'  _ Hilda thought as she tried to focus on the circuit board that laid before her.  _ 'Come on, tough it out. This is more important.' _

__ The purple haired woman shook her head hard as her vision blurred. Her hands shook uncontrollably as she reached for the soldering iron that laid close by, a chill creeping up her spine despite the heat in her head that had persisted for several days.

The gadget she was making was too important to take a break. Get it done and everything will be fine, Hilda rationalized. Her vision blurred and she dropped the soldering iron with a groan.

"Probably just tired, what time is it?" Hilda wondered to herself. She stole a glance at her phone. "Three in the morning, huh?"

She whipped her head back around, only to be slammed in the skull by a large, 

throbbing headache that flared up from the dull pounding that had plagued her for a while before. Hilda groaned and rubbed her temples. She needed some pain medication if she was going to get anything done. 

"Just get some meds and get right back to work," She muttered to herself. She stood up and got all of two steps in before the room began spinning and her headache intensified. A groan escaped her throat. Stubborn as ever, she tried to continue walking towards where she vaguely remembered putting her aspirin. On her way she bumped into another table, sending the objects on it crashing to the floor.

The impact was like an explosion, shocking Hilda's entire body and assaulting her head with pain. She let out a sound somewhere between a yell and a groan, stumbling and grasping at her head, thin fingers grasping at locks of purple. The pain increased, no throbbing in time with her heart, pounding at a steady rhythm.

Her body was surrounded by cold as she shook even more, now resembling a person left outside in winter without a nice warm coat. The dark bruise-like bags under her eyes made her horribly pale skin look even worse as her balance took a nosedive and she stumbled a few more steps before her legs gave out beneath her. Her world spun as she fell to the cold floor.

"Dammit," Hilda weakly said after her head hit the tile of the laboratory floor. She weakly looked up to where ORF was charging on the others side of the lab. Her shaking hand weakly reached out to her robot friend. Purple hair draped in her face, her ponytail having come undone over the hours. Pain slammed into her one last time before she fell into the depths of unconsciousness.

* * *

Mogar leapt through the city rooftops, intent on retreating to his home for the night. The city was strangely calm, very few buildings having lights on at this hour. He leapt over a block of machinery, stopping suddenly when he smelled something. Blue Suit and Green Suit, Mogar snarled as their scents seemed to pop out around this area. He looked at the glass building next to him, noting that only one window was lit up, and it was open. As he was about to leave, his enhanced hearing heard a loud (to him) crash coming from the open window.

Deciding to intervene before the disaster that would likely occur if the two morons were involved, the bear man leapt up the side of the building, crouching on the open windowsill. Rather than seeing X-Ray and Vav, he saw a lone person laying on the floor, right arm stretched out like she was reaching for something, her entire body violently shaking.

Mogar noticed the shock of purple hair tumbling down to the small of her back, remembering how he'd seen her before, when a large monster had appeared in the middle of the city. She'd been there in the aftermath, yelling at a small boy and the two idiots. Mogar hadn't thought much of her, considering her somewhat of a neutral, since she yelled at them, but also helped them. Right now she lay sprawled out on the floor, beside a fallen object Mogar neither knew the name of nor cared about.

"Wake up," Mogar gruffed, nudging the woman. She gave no response other than her shaking.

"Get up."

Nothing.

"Mogar demands you awaken!" The exclamation elicited a whimper from the woman, whose face scrunched up in pain and continued to shake. Concern shot through Mogar's chest like a bullet. Human's didn't make those noises unless they were hurt. He rolled her over as gently as he could, which was surprisingly gentle for a warrior. Mogar's eyes widened as he got a full look at the female.

Her skin was deathly pale, with bags under her eyes so dark they looked like bruises. A fine sheet of skin gleamed on her skin and her hair lay limp. When Mogar reached down to brush the hair away from her face, he jumped back. Her skin was burning up!

"What has happened to you?" Mogar asked her. Unsurprisingly, he got no response. Another look at her face and Mogar knew he had to act. Leaving her to the care of the morons would probably make her condition worse, not to mention that if she got worse she possibly wouldn't survive until they found her. After weighing his options, Mogar decided to take her with him.

The bear man slid an arm under her neck and another under her knees, making sure her head rested against his chest. The heat escaping off her skin was alarming, but Mogar made sure to keep her steady. He walked over to the window and slowly edged out onto the building next door.

* * *

 The trek back to his home was longer than it should have been, lasting an hour and a half compared to the twenty minutes it normally would've taken. When he finally slid through the window of his home, he laid Hilda (or ‘Purple Lady’, as he'd taken to referring to her) on the floor.

The first thing he did was gather some hay and form it into the rough shape of what he thought was a bed, before setting her down on it and covering her with a blanket he usually kept for when he hibernated. Then he pulled of the glass pieces from her face and folded them up, placing them by her head on the floor, repeating the same process with her coat and shoes. He left her alone just long enough to go to the river and fill a bowl with cold water, and gather some plants his mother had taught him were for helping the sick. After a second thought, Mogar also grabbed a bunch of berries as well.

When Mogar returned, he walked into his room to see Kablooie looming over Hilda, ready to strike if she posed a threat. He set the bowl and plants down before grabbing some rags.

"Kablooie no," Mogar warned the bird, who had inched closer to the unconscious woman. "Purple Lady is not a threat to us. She needs our help."

The bird let out a caw in protest, making Hilda groan again. Mogar gave the bird a look that said _ 'Really?'.  _ Kablooie didn't look the least bit guilty.

Mogar turned back to Hilda, carefully dipping the rag into the water, twisted it to get out excess water, and laid it on her forehead. After a moment's pause, he lifted her head and pulled her hair from under her, laying it above her head. He grabbed the plants and ground them up in another bowl, mixing them with water.

_ ‘Why did I help you?’ _ Mogar thought as he gently put a bit of the paste in her slightly open mouth. Hopefully it would still take effect.  _ ‘You are not of help to me. You cannot aid me in my search.’ _

He took a different rag and wiped the sweat from her face, neck and arms. Her breath came in short, quick huffs. Her skin was flushed, making the dark circles under her eyes seem worst. Mogar noticed she wasn’t unattractive, unlike a few female’s he’d seen around the city. He shook his head violently, dog-like, at the thought of the less….pleasant (physically and personality-wise)....women he’d seen throughout the city. 

“Mogar will take care of you,” He said. “I guess…”

He checked her pulse one last time, confused when she seemed to lean into his touch. When no reason came to his mind, Mogar grunted before leaning against the wall and slowly falling asleep.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, here's chapter 2. Thank you so much to those of you who've left kudos, commented, and just simply read through. I hope you enjoy and have a great day. Also sorry if it's too short. This is my first time really writing a shipping story.
> 
> I also don't own X-Ray and Vav. Just fyi.

Warm sunlight drifted through the open windows of Mogar's room, slowly waking the bear man from his slumber. Mogar straightened and stretched, feeling his back pop with a pleasant pain that only ever came from stretching. In the distance, Kazooie called out, greeting the forest the only way it knew how.

The late morning air was slowly warming up, giving a double edged feeling to the air. Cold and hot air intertwining. Mogar ran a hand through his curly hair, surprisingly not finding a single knot. Despite his few hours of sleep, the bear man didn't feel too tired. He looked over to where Hilda lay.

Her skin was still very pale, with the thin sheen of sweat having returned during the time he was asleep. Mogar knelt down and removed the now dry rag from her forehead. He pulled the water bowl over, sinking the rag back into the still cool liquid.

Movement next to him made his head jerk to the side. Hilda had rolled over on her side to avoid the sunlight, hands clasped over the sides of her eyes and whimpering. Mogar turned to Hilda and his hand seemed to reach out on it's own accord, gently stroking Hilda's long purple locks. Her eyes scrunched tighter and leaned into his touch again. Something felt off in Mogar's chest, a strange drumming in the left side, and he scooted away. If whatever she had was contagious, he didn't want to catch it, especially if that off feeling was one of the symptoms.

Mogar stayed at a distance the rest of the day, tending to the sleeping woman only when necessary. Despite his attempts, the drumming continued every time he got close, starting small and growing more powerful the longer he focused on her.

“What have you done to me?” Mogar growled lowly at one point, staring at Hilda’s still form from across the room. It was one of the rare moments lately that he spoke in anything other than third person (an apparent result of trying to force himself out of Vav’s Slo-Mo hands, as he’d heard her call them in the aftermath of the monster rampage).

* * *

 

Eventually he tore himself away from the treehouse, telling Kablooie to watch over Hilda as Mogar returned to the city to continue his search for his missing mother. The cooling twilight air stung his lightly tanned face and body as he ran and flipped through the slowly darkening cityscape. The coolness invaded his brain, forcing it to clear. Of Purple Lady, asleep in his treehouse; of the Colored Morons, likely messing things up wherever they were; of the weak people who inhabited the city below, who were clueless to his current position above them. 

Left behind was the thought of his Mother, and the only clue he had to the identity of her captor, a single purple patch, ripped from the attacker’s clothes as he fled the forest with Mogar’s mother in tow.

“Mogar will find you Mother,” He declared into the cool night air. The bear man searched for several more hours, climbing and running across buildings that made him cast a silhouette against the lit buildings rising above him. Finally, he decided to return to the forest.

* * *

The journey back was quick, now that he wasn’t weighed down by carrying an extra person with him. He climbed in through the window to his room, where Hilda still lay. Kablooie still sat on Mogar’s desk, hunched in a guarding posture. Hilda, Mogar noticed, had moved in her sleep, facing away from the window closest to her, partially curled up with her hair spread around her in a halo of violet. 

Kablooie crooned softly at Mogar and flapped over to his shoulder, nuzzling the bear man’s cheek with the side of it’s head. The brunet smiled and walked softly over to where their guest slept, all too aware of the drumming returning to his chest. His hand slowly reached out to her forehead, only to yank backwards as if he’d been shocked. Mogar looked at his hand and looked back at Hilda. He slowly reached out again, noticing that the once sweltering heat that had previously radiated off her had diminished. It was still high, but not as bad as it was before.

Mogar sat back, putting the dry rag into the water bowl and returning his gaze to Hilda. There it was again. The drumming in his chest, this time accompanied by heat rising in his cheeks. Each heavy thud in his chest seemed to shake his entire being. He reached his hand out to brush a stray lock of hair from her forehead. As his fingers touched her skin, she twitched and her eyes slowly opened.

All the breath left Mogar’s lungs as he was drowned in the clouded pools of magenta that stared back at him, trying to focus on him or anything around her. Mogar hadn’t seen her eyes before, nor had he ever seen such an eye color. 

Hilda blinked several times, her mind still obviously fogged by fever and vision blurred by her lack of glasses. Her mouth opened and a weak sound of confusion came out. Hilda turned her head, looking around her in an attempt to make out the surroundings. 

“Where…” She croaked out, before groaning and clutching her head. She slowly pushed herself up on wobbly arms, making Mogar lean back. Her arms shook and just as they gave way, Mogar caught her. Hilda looked up to Mogar, comprehension seeming to dawn on her. “Where am I?”

“Purple Lady is in Mogar’s home,” Mogar said. Hilda sat back on her knees, shivering and still blinking owlishly as the information settled in. The bear man took the moment to pull the blanket over her shoulders and grabbing her glasses from the spot where he’d laid her things the night before. He held them out to the woman, who took them slid them onto her face. Hilda looked at Mogar like she was seeing him for the first time, still cloudy eyes holding a sense of clear headed intrigue. “You were collapsed on the floor when Mogar heard you fall. Purple Lady was shaking and didn’t respond. Mogar knew it wasn’t a good idea to leave you alone. So he brought you here.”

“Damn…” Hilda cursed, pulling the blanket tighter, beginning to shake again. “I didn’t realize I was that sick.”

The drumming in Mogar’s chest seemed to skip as he watched Hilda process the situation. Time seemed to slow down for Mogar. Each movement seemed emphasized. The effect was ruined when she waved her hand in front of his face, making him realize he'd zoned out.

“Hey, Earth to Mogar,” Hilda’s voice came through. Mogar’s mind snapped back into reality. Hilda let out a huff and ran a hand through her hair before returning her gaze back to him. “C’mon, don’t space out on me. I-”

She was cut off as she was thrown into a coughing fit, body folding over and shoulders jerking with each cough. Mogar patted her back in what was meant to be a comforting gesture. The woman coughed for several minutes, gasping for breath, and once the fit died her body shook as she panted in an effort to regain her breath.

“Holy shit,” Hilda said weakly. Her head hung low and she fell into Mogar’s lap with a grunt. 

“Purple Lady? Purple Lady!?” Mogar exclaimed. Hilda didn’t stir. The brunet’s fingers frantically roamed her neck, finding a pulse eventually.  _ ‘She must have been exhausted by the coughing.’ _

He sat there for a few minutes, not wanting to move Hilda in case something was wrong (well, more wrong). Eventually, he put some more hay on her bed pile, laid her back down, and covered her up with the blanket again. As he sat next to her once again prone form, Mogar became aware of the drumming in his chest again. He put a hand to the spot where it was strongest. 

His heart.

Unsure of what it meant, he scooted back to the wall and sat against the wall, slowly drifting off to sleep. That night, his dreams were filled with purple hair and a strange feeling in his chest.

****


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for such the long wait guys. School hit hard in the past few weeks (I actually did a lot of this chapter on the long bus ride in the morning). Thanks for sticking with the story. Hope you enjoy!

_Sunlight fell in shafts and made the canopy of trees around him glow green. It was lively, healthy, and safe. Birds twittered and flew around nearby, with the sound of a stream in the distance. He sat up, looking around the forest with happiness. His home was safe. A moo was heard in the distance._

_“Mother!” He bolted up and sprinted towards where he heard her. Trees and bushes whipped by him, slapping at his bare chest and face. He heard his mother moo again. Loose dirt kicked up from his boots as he skidded into a sharp left turn. His heart thudded in his chest as he burst out of the foliage. Curly brown hair fell in his face as he whipped his head around. His face lit up when he saw her, laying down in the grass beneath a lone tree in the center of the meadow. He broke into a sprint, reaching her in seconds and wrapping his arms around her thick neck._

_“Mother!” He exclaimed. “Mogar is so glad to have you back.”_

_His mother mooed affectionately, licking his cheek. Mogar laughed, lighter than anyone else had ever seen, and hugged her again._

_“Well isn’t this a cute scene,” A female voice said. Mogar and his mother looked to the source of the voice._

_Hilda walked toward them. She wore a pale blue sundress with a flowy skirt that came down to her knees with darker blue ribbon straps and a fitted bodice. Her glasses were gone, and her purple hair accented the magenta of her eyes, all brought together by a crown of orange, peach and pink flowers perched on top of her head. She walked barefoot through the grass of the meadow, flowers around her blooming as she went._

_“I’m glad to see you so happy,” Hilda said, sitting down next to Mogar._

_Mogar was stunned. His heart felt like it would burst out of his chest. He opened his mouth but nothing came out. Hilda laughed at the face he made. She laid her head on his shoulder, her right hand found his left one. The bear man’s face reddened even more. His Mother mooed, nudging Mogar’s other shoulder as if to say ‘Go on, talk to her.’_

_“You look pretty,” Mogar eventually got out, his face red and palms sweaty._

_“Thank you,” Hilda replied. “You look quite handsome as well."_

_The two spent what felt like an eternity in the meadow. They ate food, played and talked for hours. At one point Kablooie flew over, landing on Mother's back and nuzzling Hilda’s cheek. As the sun set, the group retreated beneath the tree. Kablooie found refuge in the tree's branches, Mother laid next to a nice patch of grass, while Hilda laid against the trunk of the tree, running her hand through Mogar's curls as he laid his head on her lap._

_"This is the best day Mogar has ever had,” He said dreamily._

_“Well, it’s because of you,” Hilda replied. The curly haired brunet looked to her in confusion._

_“How?”_

_“All this,” Hilda gestured a pale hand around them. “Is because of you. You wanted it to be. It’s what you desired. Thus, it came true here. It doesn’t mean it can’t happen_ **_out there_ ** _, but it'll be hard. I'm a tough nut to crack. I'll resist, but I think you'll win me over eventually.”_

_Mogar’s look of confusion worsened at Hilda’s cryptic words. He blinked and she was different. Her hair was longer, wavier, and the flowers that made up her crown were tropical, hibiscus, lotus and orchids replacing cherry blossoms, apple blossoms, and wild flower blooms. He blinked again and her hair was curled and had a crown of roses. After the third blink everything around him was gone. His Mother, Hilda, the forest. Instead, he was surrounded by mirrors._

_Mogar stood up, pressing a hand against the mirror directly right in front of him. His copy did the same. He spun on his heel and walked over to the opposite mirror. He pressed his hand against the surface. There was a faint sound as he tried to pressure it into breaking. The reflections’ faces morphed into anger as he slammed his fist against the mirror, making them all rattle in the frames._

_“Let me out!” He yelled. His fist slammed into the mirror again, this time sending cracks spider webbing throughout the mirror. A grunt came from his throat as trails of red started to slide down the mirror from beneath his fist. He grimaced and pulled his bleeding hand back, pieces of the mirror falling with it._

_“Pathetic,” A voice spat. Mogar looked around for the source of the voice, but couldn't find it._

_“Who is here? Mogar demands you tell him where you've taken him!!”_

_“As if I would tell you,” The voice replied. All around him the mirrors changed, turning from normal to reflective black glass. Within it was a dark version of him, clad in darker pelts and armor that glinted like polished black diamonds, with blood red eyes with black sclera and bloody hands, a still dripping obsidian sword in his grip. Mogar jumped back, fists raised. “You're weak. Without your mother you're getting weaker by the day. What will she think of you then?”_

_Mogar felt pain as all of his strength was sucked from his body as his copy reached through the mirror closest to him, firmly clenching his neck. An aura of energy surrounded the two before Mogar was thrown back. He hit the ground with a yell, nothing but a pile of skin, bone, and hair. The dark Mogar's vanished from the mirrors._

_A pair of shined shoes appeared in his vision, and he looked up to see an imposing figure, shrouded in darkness, with only a purple button on the figure’s lapel visible._

_“You can't even find your mother,” The voice came from the figure as it picked up Mogar's discarded sword, holding it like it weighed nothing. “You're a failure.”_

_As the figure, a man, spoke, Mogar heard a bother voice,_

_“Hey, wake up!”_

_It was Hilda. Not Dream Hilda, with her flower crowns, flowing hair, swirling dress, and sweet words; but Hilda, whose voice was dull with a vaguely uncaring tone beneath which belied a small sense of concern. The one he rescued when she was unresponsive in her lab._

* * *

    He awoke with a jolt, chocolate eyes snapping open and heart racing. His eyes immediately focused on Hilda, who was knelt over him. Her hair was still undone, falling between them, and her face seemed pinched with a hint of worry. She jumped a little at his sudden awakening, before smiling in relief. Mogar froze as the drumming started to hammer his chest again.

   “About time you woke up,” She said. “You’ve been yelling for the past few minutes.”

    Mogar flushed in embarrassment. Hilda sat back on her heels as Mogar sat up. He reached a hand up and rubbed his eyes, wiping away the last vestiges of sleep from his eyes.

    “Yelling?” Mogar thought aloud.

    “Yeah,” Hilda replied. She adjusted the glasses on her face. “You were yelling about where someone had taken you, then you practically screamed.”

    A crash interrupted the conversation as a storm raged outside, pelting the treehouse with rain and wind. Mogar briefly recognized that Hilda had covered him with the blanket, leaving herself exposed to the cold air that had come rushing in with the storm.

   “This storm has been going on for hours,” Hilda sighed. “I heard it was going to be big but this is crazy.”

   The two peered out the window to see large storm clouds, dark and twisted, bearing down on the forest and the city in the distance where smoke rose in plumes from places where lightning had struck, setting the spot ablaze. The wail of sirens faintly carried out to the forest, drowned out by the storm.

     “Mogar has never seen a storm this powerful,” he muttered, brown eyes wide with a mixture of shock, awe, and fear that pooled in his gut.

     A screech came from the sky and the two dived out of the way just in time for Kablooie to come crashing into the treehouse and onto the pile of hay.

     “Kablooie!” Mogar exclaimed, rushing to the bird's side. Hilda scooted over (she still hadn't regained enough strength to stand) and jumped at the sight.

     Kablooie’s feathers on one of it's wings had been singed, like it had flew over fire. It's previously bright red and gold feathers were darkened by ash and soot. The bird weakly raised it’s head, crooning to Mogar. It's gold eyes were tinged red from the smoke.

     “He must've flew over the fire,” Hilda observed, hands ghosting over the patches of fried feathers.

     Mogar was about to growl at her but it died suddenly in his throat as the air outside suddenly felt charged and a bright light flashed right behind them and a blinding, painful shock ran up both of their spines. Milliseconds later thunder boomed as Mogar and Hilda fell to the floor like dead weights, beginning to feel the floor shift beneath them. The whole treehouse began to tip, and time seemed to slow down. Their eyes met as they were slammed against the wall of his room, fading into darkness.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Whispers into the night*....HEY YOU GUYS WANT SOME HILDGAR SMUT!!??
> 
> Sorry for the wait, I just kept going. Hope you enjoy.

    Darkness.

    Consciousness ignited in the back of my mind. Small at first, fighting to stay lit. It pulsed and glowed, like the embers in a dying fire. I wanted to move, to get to the ember and help it glow. But I couldn't. A thought struck me.

    Where am I?

    I saw nothing but the darkness around me. It pained me to move, like every nerve in my body screamed at me to just lay there. Lay there and be still.

    What happened to me? Why am I here? A name floated into my head. Hilda. Was that who I was? Yeah, that felt right.

    As soon as the name came to me, the small ember of consciousness exploded into a wave of heat. Everything came back to me. Me passing out from sickness. Waking up in Mogar’s treehouse. Him having a nightmare. The storm. Mogar’s bird Kablooie crashing through the window. Then….what?

    The image of Mogar, wild curls falling over wide and afraid brown eyes as we were thrown backwards flashed before me. An awful ache pulsed through me as it felt like I was being dragged upwards through the dark by the collar of my shirt. My heart felt like it had dropped into my stomach as I was pulled upward, blood rushed in my ears, and my eyes were forced shut.

    I don't know how long I was pulled upwards. Seconds? Hours? Gradually I slowed to a stop, floating once more within the darkness. It was so too quiet, I'd never heard such deafening silence. I looked around, catching sight of my arms. The lines were fuzzy, with a light magenta trail that followed slightly behind as my arms moved. I looked down and saw the same thing with the rest of my body.

    “Where am I?” I wondered aloud. Then setting happened. I heard something. It sounded like it was coming through ten layers of cotton, muffled and unable to be comprehend properly.

    Suddenly, whatever sort of tether that had pulled me up was severed. For a brief millisecond I hovered there, before dropping like a stone. My heart leapt from my stomach to my throat as I scrubbed wildly. I felt the ground nearing and I shut my eyes.

* * *

 

    I jolted as my eyes snapped open and I was blinded by a wave of pain. My joints were on fire, and my back felt like I'd been steamrolled. My eyes slowly adjusted, and I groaned.

    “Wha…?” My voice died in my throat as I began to cough and hack, each time gasping for breath. After a few minutes of pained coughing, I recovered myself enough to open my eyes again.

    I was on my stomach, lying in the wrecked remains of Mogar’s treehouse. Rain came down, soaking me and blurring my vision. The sky was still dark, and thunder still rolled like the distant beating of drums in a death march. I turned my head and immediately my vision went blurry. When it cleared, horror washed over me at what I saw.

    About one and a half arm lengths away was Mogar. He laid facing me, eyes shut and clearly out for the count. His right arm laid wrongly at his side, like it had been dislocated. There was a large bruise on his right cheek, blooming in blue, purple and red; there was a gash in the left side of his stomach, along with various cuts on his arms, glowing blood sliding down his skin. Second degree burns came in patches on his shoulders and back, while red lines traced out branching patterns on his shoulders, chest, and arms, curling around and up his neck, darting beneath the face paint on his cheeks. Lichtenberg figures, I remembered. They were the result of,

    “Lightning strikes,” I gasped out, eyes wide. I tried to push myself up, but only got my muscles to scream back at me and my fingers to twitch. I grunted in pain before the situation settled in. Mogar was unconscious, I couldn't see where Kablooie was, and I couldn't move without searing pain. I looked to the unconscious man again, watching rain mix in with the blood that trailed down his body. We couldn't stay here. We'd be vulnerable to another strike.

    I took a deep breath, readied myself, and pushed myself up. Dark spots obscured my vision and I fought myself to not fall back down. My limbs felt like lead as I tried to crawl over to him. Blood dripped down from cuts on my arms, mixing with the rain on the charred wood. After what felt like forever, I finally reached him.

    “Hey.” My throat was scratchy, and it was hard to speak. I put a hand on his shoulder. “C’mon, get up. We have to move.”  

    I rolled him over onto his back. He groaned and I felt my chest tighten. Whenever I'd  seen him running across the rooftops, or whenever X-Ray would rant about him after a fight, Mogar always seemed so strong. The damage that must have happened must’ve been enormous. My fingers found a vein in his neck, a weak but frequent beating coming from beneath his skin.

    “Hey!” I shook him again, and he moaned, slowly opening his eyes. He tried to sit up but yelled in pain. I caught him, keeping his arm steady. “Whoa, don’t move.”

    “What...happened…” He gasped out, looking vaguely around us.

    “I’m not completely sure,” I told him. “But I’m think we were hit by lightning.”

    “We’re on the ground.”

    “I think the lightning knocked the tree down.”

    He looked around with a face similar to a kicked puppy’s and it made my heart clench. It occurred to me that the treehouse was probably the only home he’d ever had. He looked back to me and for a second I thought he wasn’t just red from the lightning strike.

    “You’re hurt.” He reached his left arm up and touched my face. I winced when his fingers touched a cut there, sending out a small sting of pain.

    “It doesn’t matter,” I replied. “We have to get to shelter. Are there any caves or something nearby we could hide in until the storms are done?”

    “That way.” Mogar pointed past them, deeper into the forest. He tried to put weight on his right arm but screamed in pain, dropping back into my arms. My shoulder hurt as he dropped back down, but I ignored it.

    “First things first,” I realized. “We need to set your arm.”

    He looked terrified as I laid him down. I gently, but firmly bent his elbow and pulled it at a right angle from his body. With a warning of “Relax and take a deep breath,” I pulled, slowly and firmly on the arm. Mogar growled in pain, before looking nauseous as the arm slipped back into the socket with a _clunk_ or whatever sound it was _._ It was kind of hard to describe.

    “Alright.” I helped him sit up. “You’ll need a sling.”

    He looked at me strangely as I pulled off my lab coat, wincing as there was a burning pain in my back. I pulled it in front of me to fold it into a sling, but I noticed it might not be as sturdy of a sling as I thought.

    At least I found out why my back was hurting.

    I traced a finger along the burned edge of the fabric before sighing. I could make this work. Ignoring Mogar’s strange look (was that fear? I didn’t know), I folded the burnt remains of my labcoat into a makeshift sling, settling Mogar’s arm in it and tying the sleeves into a knot behind his neck.

    “Now,” I said, pushing myself to my feet, ignoring the pain all over my body. I pulled Mogar to his feet, making sure he was steady. “Where’s your bird friend? We can take care of him when we get to the cave.”

    I didn’t know why I was being so...what word could I use for this? Generous? Kind? Caring? My mind was drawing a blank.

    I think that lightning did more to me than I thought.

    My eyes scanned the wreckage of Mogar’s home, finding a glimpse of a red and yellow wing behind us. It took my legs a few seconds to respond, ignoring the pains in my body and walking over to brush some wood away from the bird. The bird (I think Mogar called him...Kablooie?) weighed as much as a small child, but wasn’t too cumbersome for me to lift.

    “Lead on,” I told Mogar, who looked at me with a look my mind couldn’t place. It took him a second before he nodded and motioned for me to follow him.

* * *

 

    It was slow going, and I lost track of how long we walked through the rain, which had intensified to a near downpour. Kablooie would sometimes shift and croon as we walked. My body was still burning with pain and my limbs were still lead, but I kept moving. We walked side by side, near silent, save for winces and groans from either of us. The storm above us didn’t seem to give any hint of lessening at all.

    “There,” Mogar said. I looked up and could just barely see the cave through my water-covered glasses. He lead me inside and I nearly slipped on the mud just outside the mouth of the cave, sending a jolt of pain through my one ankle.

    I stumbled inside, trying to see inside the dark cave. I felt a hand on my shoulder. Kablooie shifted in my arms and my back hurt as water ran down it.

    “Mogar is glad he kept some extra supplies here,” He said off to my side. Kablooie was lifted from my arms and I took my glasses off, wiping the water off with my shirt, decidedly ignoring the blood still running down my arms and the pain in my chest and stomach.

    “You better not be using your sling arm,” I warned.

    “Mogar is not,” He replied. I looked up and saw him setting his bird friend on a small nest next to a small pile of supplies towards the very back of the cave. The bird trilled at Mogar and looked between him and I. Whatever the bird had said made Mogar act...bashful?

    The bear man was toeing the ground and rubbing his neck like an awkward schoolboy. What the hell did that bird say?

    Mogar pulled some wood from a pile and began laying it in a pile at the center of the cave. He pulled a flint and steel from his pocket (When did he get pockets?) and  awkwardly tried to strike it. Of course, having only one usable hand didn't make it easy.

    “Here,” I said, taking the flint and steel from him. He growled something I didn't hear as I got down close to the wood. As I swept my hand down to strike the flint, my vision blurred as I got nailed by a headache. My hand hit the wood and I winced at the sting that emanated from my knuckles.

    I blinked and my vision cleared, making me notice my hand with the steel was almost five inches from the flint. How did it get that far off? I tried again, this time getting a successful spark, catching the dry wood like a matchbox. I blew on the glowing embers, coaxing it into a roaring fire.

    Something grabbed my arm and I was pulled off to my right. Mogar grunted behind me and I felt cold fingers touch the space between my shoulder blades; I jumped in response, letting out something similar to a yelp or squeak.

    “Your clothing was burned,” Mogar said, fingers ghosting over my back. His fingers were barely touching me and I could feel the cold falling off his hands. I felt him touch a point below my shoulder blades and far below my bra strap, which felt like it had held up remarkably well. “Down to here.”

    “No wonder my back was sore,” I grumbled. It was like my body was listening, because the second I admitted that, my whole body throbbed with aches and stabs of pain on a whole new level. I felt Mogar’s left hand holding my shoulder steady, like he was afraid I'd pitch forward into the fire. The bear man pulled himself forward and sat next to me, neck craned to the side with a first aid kit between his chin and shoulder.

    “You are still hurt,” He said when I looked at him funny. “Mogar will bandage you.”

    “What about your cuts?” I replied as he awkwardly tried to bandage my arm and apply disinfectant on the cuts.

    “Mogar’s cuts have already healed. They are of no matter.” I looked at him and saw that his cuts hadn't healed, but he began wrapping before I could say anything. Mogar fumbled with the bandage roll and I caught it after he'd finished banging cuts on my right wrist and forearm.

    “You apply, I'll wrap,” I offered. Mogar looked almost embarrassed, either that he had to accept my help or that he couldn't do it himself.

    After he seemed satisfied that my arms were bandaged up he tried to move onto what were apparently second degree burns on my back, but I managed to out maneuver him and wrap his cuts and the gash in his stomach. He grumbled when I did, and was practically livid when I moved on to take care of Kablooie, who was still injured from before thw treehouse collapsed.

    The bird crooned softly as I applied the burn cream to his wing. Probably wasn't perfect for animals, but oh well. I wrapped Kablooie’s wing and put a small gauze patch on a cut on his leg.

    “What are these?” Mogar asked. I turned my head and saw him trailing his fingers along the Lichtenberg lines on his arms. He looked up and traced his fingers along my shoulder and down my back, trying to avoid the burns. “You have them too. All over you.”

    I looked down at my shoulder, noticing Lichtenberg lines crossing over my shoulders and across my chest in an elaborate pattern, weaving around and branching off in a pattern similar to Mogar's.

    “Well,” I began. “They're called Lichtenberg figures. It's what happens when you get struck by lightning. I don't know whether they'll scar or not.”

    Mogar looked at the lines on his arms before tracing another on my back.

    “You have so many,” He said, barely above a whisper. “All over your back, your shoulders, your neck, your chest, am part of your face too. Mogar thinks they look pretty on you.”

    I could barely hear the last part, and I thought I'd imagined it.

    “I've definitely seen worse cases,” I replied. “I saw a guy on the news, and it looked like he was painted black and blue with splotches of yellow and angry red lines. It struck him so hard it took him years to recover.”

    Mogar’s brown eyes widened at the thought. I turned to look out of the mouth of the cave, down to the city on the horizon.

    “With all this rain I wouldn't be surprised if the city was flooded,” I continued. “I hope ORF and Rusty are okay.”

    “Who?”

    “ORF is a robot friend I created when I was little.” I absently traced ORF’s image into the dirt. Mogar turned his head to the side at the drawing, reminding me vaguely of a dog. “You've met Rusty; he was the guy you beat up when you first fought X-Ray and Vav. He's pretty resourceful, but a bit...strange.”

    “Mogar remembers him, he reeked of urine and sadness.”

    “Probably because you beat him up.”

    “Mogar does not regret it.”

    “Didn't think you would.”

    I winced as lightning lit up the sky, making my head hurt. Mogar looked to me and then back out at the forest.

    “Why are you worried for them? Are they not intelligent?” His tone seemed innocent, and he scooted a little closer to me. I stared down at legs, noticing that I had cuts, bruises, and gashes on them. And damn it, my ankle was the size of a softball.

    “They're intelligent,” I replied. “But ORF is somewhat fragile if she's hit at the right angle and Rusty’s usually drunk and not fully aware if things around him.”

    We sat in silence for a while after that. Eventually Mogar started to doze off, and as much as I thought he should stay awake, he fell asleep.

    On me.

    Lovely.

    I sighed and picked him up. He was heavy, close to two hundred pounds. It almost felt like my arms were slowly being pulled from their sockets, but I kept going. Kablooie had hobbled over to the supply pile and dragged out a bed roll, unrolling it with his beak. I laid Mogar down and covered him with the top of the bed roll. He rolled over onto one side, facing me and curling his hand under his head. His injured arm had been pulled back to rest at his side.  

    I watched him sleep for what I guessed was only a few minutes before I turned away. My hands grabbed the  elastic bandages and I began wrapping my ankle, foregoing putting ice on it since I didn't have any, and anchored it with a metal clip. After that I cleaned and covered cuts or gashes on my face, legs, and torso. I decided to skip attempting to put burn cream on myself.

    I felt sleep curling around the back of my mind, like a fog slowly creeping forward. But it only reminded me of the other problems. My limbs not responding, my blurring vision, forgetting words or names, seeing things I wasn't sure I was seeing, not automatically feeling pain, and not wondering if I was actually in some sort of dream. Because right now, I would have preferred that the last part was true.

    As I sat there, my body began to alight with a steady stream of pain, from dull throbbings, to firey stabs, to an aching that flowed to every part of me. Thunder crashed again and I looked outside, wondering if I was going to suffer in the long run.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoy, leave a review if you enjoy.
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
> I was serious about the smut. Let me know.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about the long wait everyone! But here's the chapter, I tried to make it around the same length as the last one. I'll upload some art and a Christmas-themed oneshot (not canon to the story) tomorrow. Hope you all enjoy!

     Columns of smoke rolled up into the sky. Water gushed out of a broken fire hydrant, joining the water falling from the sky. Citizens huddled inside, away from the storm. 

     Within Monarch Labs, it was mostly business as usual, except for one lab that hadn't seen activity in several days. 

     Thunder boomed and the power went out across the entire city. Within the silent lab, ORF was jolted awake from charging mode. Her screen lit up, casting a blue hue into the surrounding area. She hovered up to her usual height, searching around for Hilda. A quick scan of the room only revealed a broken piece of equipment on the floor and Hilda's purse, which still remained in the cabinet with her hoodie.

     “That's strange,” ORF said. The little robot hovered around the lab, searching for signs of her creator. When she hovered past the window, a bolt of lightning lit up the lab, startling the little robot. With a simple search ORF found footage of the carnage that the storm was wreaking on the city. Fires, downed power lines, car crashes, and fallen trees. She saw X-Ray and Vav helping citizens, slowing the fall of objects, carrying them to safety, and stopping criminals who wanted to take advantage of the chaos. 

     The little robot smiled, before pulling up the internal security cameras, hoping to find Hilda. When the purple haired scientist didn’t appear on the cameras within the past two days, ORF looked farther, finding her two more days before, working and collapsing, shaking violently. ORF’s screen face morphed into fear at her creator’s violent shaking, the little robot couldn’t look away for fear of what would happen. Almost five minutes later, a hooded figure crawled into the lab, shaking Hilda. The figure rolled her over, picked her up and took her out the window.

     “I’ve got to find help!” ORF exclaimed, speeding out of the lab (the door locking behind her) and through the streets, fighting the high winds and relentless rain.

* * *

 

     Eventually, ORF found Rusty’s box, sheltered from the rain by a tarp and surrounded by sandbags. Since she lacked hands, ORF hit the side of the box, turning to the side to avoid direct damage to her screen. When there was no answer, ORF lifted up the side of the box and slid under.

     Inside, the box was much warmer than ORF had estimated. Light was cast from the strings of lights that hung around the inside. The room itself was much larger than ORF thought possible. Stack of papers towered over the small robot, filing cabinets had corners of paper sticking out of the sides and several half empty bottles of alcohol. 

     Rusty was passed out in the corner, a completely empty bottle laying in his limp hand. ORF zoomed over, shaking him awake.

     “Ah Vietnam!” He exclaimed, eyes bolting open. He swung the bottle and ORF but the small robot dodged, leaving the bottle to go flying across the room. Rusty looked back, realizing who it was. “Oh, hey ORF, whatcha doin’ out here? Aren't you supposed to be with Hilda?”

     “Affirmative. However, Hilda’s gone and I don't know where she was taken!” 

     Rusty’s eyes narrowed. “Taken, eh? How long ago?”

     “Timestamps indicate that she has been missing for four days, ten hours, and five minutes.”

     “Ew..that's quite a window.” The gray haired male pulled himself up, stumbled,  and stretched, his vertebrae realigning with a  _ pop _ . “Any clue as to who's got her?” 

     “Security footage shows that it was a pale male of about 6’ 3” with yellow pants, brown boots, a brown bearskin hood, paint on his arms and a large blue bladed sword entered through the window. He shook Hilda for a few seconds as she lay on the ground. Then he picked her up and left through the window!” 

     “Large sword eh?” Rusty thought aloud. He went over to one of his filing cabinets, pulling out a thin folder with the single letter  _ M _ on it. He flicked it open, selected a picture and held it up. “This him?”

     “Yep!”

     “That, might be bad.” He laid the file open for the robot to see. “That's Mogar, the guy that's been running around the city for the past few months. Pretty aggressive….and probably raised by trees or somethin’.”

     “We need to find them!” ORF exclaimed. The tiny AI was practically shaking with worry, which went unportrayed with her eternally cheerful tone.

     Rusty sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose.

     “Alright, but if he pulls his sword on me then I'm out.” Thunder rocked the ground beneath them, the sound waves sending them to the ground. “But we should wait until the storm eases up.”

     Anger flashed through ORF’s circuits. Hilda was in danger! They needed to go now! The light above them flickered and died. 

     “...Well fuck.”

* * *

 

     Later that night, an alarm woke ORF up. Hilda's phone had sent out a large pulse of energy in the forest outside of the city before dying. 

     Without a second thought ORF left Rusty’s place, fighting the winds and dodging debris. After two and a half hours of struggling, the small robot reached the location of the pulse.

     A large tree had collapsed, some branches scorched by fire while wooden planks jutted out of what used to be the top. ORF shook water from her screen as she scanned the area for Hilda.

     Nothing but puddles of water containing trace amounts of blood.

     The little robot searched tirelessly until she came across something. Two sets of tracks. Based on the size, a male and a female, injured judging by the changes between each foot, indicating limping from both of them.  

     Thunder boomed in the distance, and the tracks leading deeper into the woods were illuminated by the flash of lightning that preceded it. ORF followed the tracks, hovering deeper into the woods, the thick trees sheltering her from the stronger winds. The little robot lost the trail several times, the soft mud warping and losing hold of the prints before ORF had arrived.

     After almost an hour of searching, ORF’s sensors picked up a familiar bio-signature. Hilda. ORF zoomed toward the signature; if she had a heart it would’ve been racing. She stopped at the mouth of a cave. 

     Just within the cave, Hilda laid slumped over herself, partially lying to one side, using a battered arm as a headrest. Several parts of her body were bandaged and Lichtenburg lines coated her skin. Deeper into the cave, Mogar slept soundly in a sleeping bag, his one arm held in the burned lab coat that Hilda always wore, the same lines crossing his skin.

     ORF nudged the purplenette gently. Hilda twitched, murmuring something before curling back up. The orbicular robot bumped the woman again. This time, Hilda’s eyes snapped open and she jumped up with a gasp.

     “Wha..?” Hilda gasped out, her eyes landed on ORF and her face flooded with relief. “ORF! You’re okay!”

     Hilda pulled her robot into a hug, wincing at the pressure on her ribs. ORF, had she possessed non-combat arms, would’ve hugged her back. Hilda pulled away looking ORF directly in the eye (screen?).

     “How’d you find us?” The question was filled with relief and concern.

     “Your phone sent off a pulse that I tracked. I tried to recruit Rusty, but he wanted to wait until the storm stopped. So I flew off and found you!”

     Hilda’s chest felt like it was surging, bursting with happiness. Her eyes watered and she hugged her oldest and most precious friend close. Behind them there was a shuffling, a grunt of pain, and a noise of confusion. The sound of fabric ruffling filled the air behind them, and Mogar crawled up behind them. 

     The pressure of Mogar’s body nuzzling against her back in a half asleep haze made her wince. She arched her back slightly, eyes squeezing shut. The curls on his head were slightly drier, and he was generally warmer than he’d been before. It was a good sign.

Mogar moved to Hilda’s side, nuzzling against her waist. She pulled one hand away from ORF to gently stroke the red-brown curls. Slowly, the haze of sleep fell from the warrior who looked to ORF with a sense of guarded confusion.

“Hello!” ORF greeted Mogar. The curly haired man blinked in confusion.

“What are you?” He replied, sniffing the air around the small robot.

“I am ORF; Hilda made me.” The robot smiled as Mogar looked at her from every angle he could. 

“Circle Robot is strange,” Mogar grunted. Hilda smiled before lightning struck nearby, making the trio jump. Hilda clutched ORF closer as the scientist was struck with a terrible pounding in her head due to the light. She grunted, and Mogar put his uninjured hand on her shoulder, letting her lean into him. 

“Hilda?” ORF chirped. Hilda slowly opened her eyes, tears brimming in them. A warm hand ran through her hair as the thunder rattled them to the core.

     “Ow.” The reply was weak and pained. Mogar frowned and ran his hand through her hair in a placating gesture. 

     “When is this storm supposed to cease?” Mogar questioned ORF. The robot stilled for a few seconds before replying,

     “Approximately three hours from now.” 

     They sat in a tense silence for several minutes. The air was thick anticipation. They all just sat there, ORF in Hilda's lap and Hilda all but in Mogar’s as his hand traveled through her purple locks. The pain slowly faded from Hilda’s mind as a thought came to her. Her lip twitched, making the figures on her face warp and jerk. 

     “Hey Mogar,” She finally said. Her voice sounded parched, ironic for their situation.

     “Yes?”

     “I’ve been wondering...what made you want to help me. Y’know, back at my lab when I was sick. You could’ve just ignored the crash, or just left me there on the floor. Why didn’t you?”

     Mogar sat up a little straighter. “You did not wish to be saved?”

     “I’m glad you did, but why did you decide to? It’s not like you knew me much; we’d never really met before.”

     There were so many emotions mixed in her eyes and her voice. Confusion, uncertainty, gratitude, and another emotion that pulled everything else together. 

     Mogar’s heart clenched when he realized, he couldn’t say it. He couldn't say why. He couldn't tell her about the stirring in his chest, or the heat that rose in his cheeks when he was around her. The words were there, right on the tip of his tongue, but it felt like his mouth was filled with cotton. His tongue was thick and useless in his mouth. His heart began racing and he settled for the first thing he could say.

     “Mogar... does not know. It was the best course of action at the time.” 

     Hilda gave a weak smile, like she was unsure how to feel about the response. They locked eyes as a bolt of lightning lit up the sky. 

     Time seemed to stop. Mogar felt the dull roar of his rushing blood hammer through his head as his heart leapt. They stayed like that, frozen in place until the wind kicked up even more, sending rain into the mouth of the cave, hitting them with a wave of cold rain. 

     They scrambled back further into the cave and closer to the slowly dying fire. Mogar shook his hair, sending water from him. Hilda wrung her hair out and wiped ORF off with a piece of her shirt.

     “Well, when the storm lets up and we get help, I’ll let you stay at my place,” Hilda broke the silence. “I can help you rebuild your treehouse, help you find that person you were yelling about earlier.”

     The warmth in his chest became near overwhelming as his heart struggled to contain itself. He got out the reply, “Mogar...would appreciate that.”

     Kablooie, having heard the commotion, hobbled up, giving Mogar the best teasing grin he could. Which wasn’t much considering he lacked lips and had a hard beak instead. Mogar made a “shut up” face at Kablooie, who had turned his attention to ORF. The two edged closer to each other, Kablooie wary and ORF curious. The two were only about three feet from each other before ORF let out a light to scan Kablooie. The bird squawked, startled and ruffled his feathers, flapping his wings at the robot.

     Hilda laughed at the display despite the pain it made in her ribs. Mogar huffed a laugh too, petting the bird’s feathers to calm the creature.

     “This type of bird is not in my databanks,” ORF stated. “What type is it?”

     “Bregull,” Mogar grunted. Kablooie cawed at ORF, flapping his wings as if to say, _“Yes, I am a Bregull.”_

     ORF seemed content with knowing and floated back over to Hilda, curling up next to her and activated her heating function. Warmth spread over Hilda’s skin and she hugged her robotic friend. A sigh of relief escaped her lips.

     Mogar felt something change in his chest, an anger that came with direction, a focus point; he wanted to be the one she was hugging. His fists clenched and unclenched a few times before Hilda began speaking again.

     “Like I was saying before, once the storm clears, ORF can send a message to the others. We’ll most likely have to go to the hospital to get checked out. You’ve never been to one of those have you? I doubt it. They’re not that bad, most of the time anyways. It’s can just be an inconvenience at times.”

     Mogar listened to her uncharacteristic ramble on for several minutes before noticing something. Her words began slurring. She began swaying slightly, and pressed her eyes open and closed. Something was wrong. 

     “Hilda?” ORF looked up at Hilda, concern breaking through her permanently happy voice.

     Mogar was at her side in a near instant. He grabbed her shoulder and spun her around. She looked up at him with glazed eyes, her right pupil had shrunk, while the left had grown. Hilda cocked her head to the side, before her eyes rolled to the back of her head and she fell forward.

     “Hilda!” ORF exclaimed. The white robot broke free of her mistress’s grasp as Mogar caught her with one arm, wincing slightly when she hit some of the bandages on his chest. He eased her down to the ground, heart racing in the worst way when she began shaking violently on the cold ground. ORF scanned Hilda, engulfing her in the same light blue light as ORF’s screen. Near instantly, the robot began speaking some long winded medical terms about what she’d detected. 

     Mogar’s heart dropped like a stone as he realized, he wasn’t able to understand what was wrong with Hilda. He couldn’t help her. 

For once in his life, Mogar felt completely and utterly powerless. And it terrified him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so much for following the progression of this story. Leave a review if you enjoyed. See you tomorrow with some presents from me to all of you!
> 
> Happy Holidays!


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about the long wait, I've been pretty busy. But I hope to get the next chapter out within the month. Enjoy!
> 
>  
> 
> Also, there's kind of a....I wouldn't exactly call it poorly written....but there is something similar to a panic attack, so be warned about that.

      When X-Ray became a superhero, he expected cheering crowds, fans, parades in his honor, ladies falling all over him, gifts and all of the grandeur associated with the role. Helping others was like a requirement on a video game quest and he wanted the reward.

      When Vav became a superhero, he expected to deliver justice, no matter the size of the crime; he expected to help the weak and come to the aid of anyone in need. The rewards were just a nice ‘thank you’ that to Vav wasn’t as satisfying as the heroics itself.

      Neither of them had expected to include a purple haired genius, her robotic creation, a crowned maniac, an eyepatched business mogul, an overly obsessed fanboy, a ripped man in a bear pelt, or an intrepid reporter to their quest for justice and glory. But like all great heroes, they’d adapted. They got used to Hilda’s cynicism. To ORF in her entirety. They defeated the Mad King and Corpirate. They dealt with Dragonface and were working on Mogar and Ash.

      Despite their adjustments, life loved to throw curve balls at them. Like how Rusty had woken them up at 3 am to tell them Hilda had been taken by Mogar, making X-Ray and Vav go out to look for her. They sloshed through the mud and grass of the nearby forest, where ORF had been sending off a frantic distress signal.

      "Ugh," X-Ray groaned, pulling his boots from the mud for the fifth time within the past fifteen minutes. "How long until we-"

      “There!” Vav looked up from the handheld radar and pointed a red gloved hand to a cave a few meters away. The two heroes took off, slipping, sticking, and sliding in the mud until they reached the cave. “Miss Hilda we’re—”

      The words died in Vav’s throat as the scene before them. X-Ray crashed into the British man’s back, but his complaints died as well.

      Hilda, with her hair singed at the bottom and splayed beneath her, laid in front of a heavily bandaged Mogar, shaking violently. Several bandages crossed her skin, while lines cut up what was left. Her clothes were burned and torn, and she looked in great pain.

      Mogar himself wasn’t much better, bearing similar injuries, save for his one arm in an improvised sling that looked like it had been through hell and back. He sat next to her, looking helplessly to ORF as she hovered beside him, sprouting out medical terms at break neck speed.

      _“Holy SHIT!”_ X-Ray exclaimed. “What the hell happened here!?”

      The relieved look that exploded onto Mogar’s face looked so out of character that it scared the two heroes.

      “Mogar doesn’t know what is wrong with her.” His voice shook, notes of fear and nervousness dripping from his tongue with each breath. The words shot from his mouth like he was sure Hilda would stop breathing if he talked too long. “She just began shaking.”

      “Okay, calm down,” Vav said, holding his gloved hands up in (what he hoped was) a placating gesture. “X-Ray, call the hospital, see if we can get paramedics to the edge of the forest at the very least. Hilda needs-”

      It was at that moment Mogar succumbed to panic, shaking uncontrollably, albeit he seemed more like a vibrating child’s toy whereas Hilda was a ragdoll in an earthquake. His heart pounded, his vision spun, his senses clouded and he fought to stay above the waves of panic that threatened to pull him under completely.

      “Shit, calm down dude!” X-Ray raced forward, clamping a hand on Mogar’s shoulder in an attempt to put him to ease, only for Mogar to jolt backwards as he’d been grabbed by the injured shoulder. Panic stabbed in deeper and Mogar’s mind fell to his instincts. He began using both hands to try and push X-Ray away, but his energy dropped like a stone as he heard Vav -with distorted, watery hearing- say,

      “ORF, knock ‘im out!”

      “Okay!”

      The cheerful reply was punctuated by a prick in his neck, sharp and cold. Something icy hot rushed through his veins and he dropped like a stone. Everything faded to black.

* * *

      Beeping.

      It was off to the side, right next to and slightly above his head. Constant and annoying. He hated it already. His entire body felt scratchy, and a bruised throbbing emanated from his arm, elbow, and fingers.

      The amount of energy it took for him to open his eyes was unholy. His eyelids weighed a ton, and after what felt like an eternity, he was greeted by a dimly lit, unfamiliar room. Beige walls were warmly lit but held a sterile air within the room. A crisp pale blue blanket laid over him, and a poor excuse for a pillow attempted to support his head.  To his right a curtain cut the room in half. Off to the other side, someone laid curled up in a, probably rock hard, chair with a blue blanket around them.

      He opened his mouth to call out to the person laying in the chair, but the scratchiness in his throat intensified, resulting in his message devolving into a raspy growl and drove down further to a hacking cough. 

      The person in the chair stirred, falling to the ground with a familiar squawk. Mogar gave a nonplussed grunt between his violent coughing and raised an eyebrow as the person picked himself up.

      “Oi, you're awake!” It was Vav, Mogar realized. To him, the British superhero looked far different without his suit fully completed, as for some reason Vav had just ditched the cape and slipped on some shorts over his suit. Mogar tried to respond, only to fall to another bout of coughs.

      “Oh, sorry,” Vav apologized, he pulled a bottle of water from the bedside table. The British superhero helped Mogar ease into a sitting position. Typically Mogar would have fought against anyone attempting to move him without his asking, yet he was too sore and had no energy to fight him.

      The water was cool against his throat, soothing the ache and gently rousing him to a higher sense of alertness. He realized his right arm was in a medical grade sling and wrapped in bandages. His torso and shoulders were wrapped, save for the patch at his elbow where an IV was inserted.

      He looked up at Vav, swallowing the last part of the bottle slowly. “Where have you taken Mogar?”

      “You’re in the hospital mate,” Vav stated. “You went nutters and tried to attack us. It’s been about three days, we were beginning to get worried.”

      Mogar frowned as his sluggish mind attempted to process the information. His instincts were screaming at him to _**leave;** run away and return to the forest. _

      But he couldn’t. He was too weak; without his Mother's power he was losing strength with every heartbeat. Fear crept into his heart, crawling up it and ensnaring it like the vines he used to get tangled in as a cub. He wouldn't have the strength to rescue her now. His heart felt like it was going to burst from his chest and onto the bed in front of him.

      Beep.Beep! _Beep! **BeepBeepBeepBeep!!** _

      “Oi, bloody chill mate,” Vav put a firm hand on his uninjured shoulder. “Your heart is goin’ ballistic!”

      Slowly Mogar’s frantic heartbeats died down to a slightly higher than normal rate. His breathing was still shaky, as was he. His slinged arm throbbed despite the pain medication that was coursing through his veins just as his mother's power use to.

      “Where is...Hilda?” Mogar’s raspy voice still stubbornly clung to his throat.

      “Oh, Miss Hilda is still asleep,” Vav replied. “The doctors are hoping she'll wake up soon.”

      Mogar frowned. An ache bloomed in his chest like a flower, it's spiky petals cutting into his heart. His chest spasmed with each breath. _Hilda might not wake up. It’d be his fault, he took her to his home, he didn’t protect her and she got hurt because he was weak._

      “Will she be alright?” He choked out. “Where is she resting?"

      “Over here actually.” Vav pulled the curtain aside to reveal the other half of the room. It wasn't much different from Mogar’s side, save for the person laying in the bed.

      Hilda was even paler than usual and were it not for the slight rise and fall of her chest and the beeping of the heart monitor he would've thought she was dead. Her hair was chopped in uneven, rush-job pieces near the base of her neck. Wires appeared from beneath her hair and plugged into a different monitor, which blurted nonsensical numbers and words at them. Several IVs were slid into her arms. She was pale and covered in bandages, clad in a pale hospital gown with her glasses laying on the side table. Her words from before about a different lightning victim danced through his head, _"It struck him so hard it took him years to recover._ "

      ORF laid on the side table, looking sadly at Hilda, her tiny antenna drooping. She didn’t seem to take in anything else, not Vav, not Mogar, nothing but Hilda.

      Mogar sat straight up, wincing at the pull of his bandages. He tried to move his legs, only to be physically stopped. He used one hand to pull back the covers. Beneath them were padded straps holding his legs down.

      “Sorry about that,” Vav apologized. “You started thrashing on the way here and agitating your injuries. So they had to strap you down.”

      Mogar glared at the straps and the bandages below them.

      “When can Mogar be free?” He asked the Brit. Vav scratched his head in attempt to recall.

      “I think the doc said...a week from now? Yeah that sounds right.”

      A tense silence fell. After a few minutes of stiff silence, Vav spoke.

      “Can I ask you something?”

      “Yes.”

      “Why did you take Miss Hilda from her lab?”

      Mogar flushed slightly, scratching his neck awkwardly. “Mogar found Hilda when she was very sick. She didn’t respond when Mogar demanded she wake up and she was shaking terribly. Mogar could not leave her, so he took her to his home to take care of her. The storm struck Mogar’s home and harmed us.”

      “Well, I guess I have to thank you,” Vav professed. “For saving Miss Hilda I mean.”

      Mogar smiled faintly at Vav, but the smile dropped and his gaze fell back on Hilda. His chest began its pains again. The thought of her hurt suffocated him. He thought about how strong she'd been before, holding out for who knows how long before succumbing to her injuries when he'd crashed and burned from his so easily in comparison. Mogar would definitely have to repay her.

      “You like Miss Hilda, don’t you Mogar,” Vav determined. Mogar flushed and nodded.

      “Mogar likes Hilda a lot.” His mind drifted to the dream he'd had before his home fell. The one where he and Hilda had spent the day together. The mere thought made warmth curl inside his chest, chasing back the pain a fraction of a bit.

      “Well, when she wakes up, I’m sure she’ll be glad to know you’re alright.”

      The door to the room swung open and a voice boisterously exclaimed,

      “Sup losers!”


End file.
